He Who Fights Monsters
by Scribbling Shroud
Summary: To Gin, it's a simple plan:  get into Seireitei, kill the offending shinigami, and get out.  The revelation that he has to go to school for this first suprises him.  Oh, well.  It's just a temporary setback.  A story of Gin's single year at the Academy.


**Disclaimer:** All settings and character of Bleach are the property of Kubo Tite.

_**He Who Fights Monsters**_

**PROLOGUE**

Gin watched with an expression of pure fascination as the gate guardian lowered the immense door behind him. He'd never seen a person so enormously . . . well, enormous, before. How did anyone get that big? And get able to lift stuff that heavy? It was pretty nifty.

Oh, well. He had much more important things to think about right now.

He pushed the sleeves of his stolen shinigami uniform away from his wrists as he walked. The clothes were too big for him, but he hadn't been about to wait for a shinigami his size to take one from. They hardly ever came out as far as South Sixty-Four as it was. What was that saying? Beggars can't be choosers? Having much experience of being a beggar, Gin knew very well that he had to take opportunities when they presented themselves.

The pristine streets of Seireitei were something of a shock. Oh, he'd seen better and better neighbourhoods on his journey over here, and he knew shinigami lived pretty well, but still. They were immaculate. Not a speck of dust, a crumb of food, a drop of blood.

Gin's grin broadened. He would fix that last one when he found the ones responsible for what happened to Rangiku.

Unfortunately, he didn't know how exactly to find them. The plan had sounded simple enough in his head: steal a uniform, sneak into the organization, and slice up everyone who had hurt her. In practice, it wasn't really working out that way. He was going to need to revise a few things.

"Whoa, whoa there, little one! Just where are you going?"

He stopped in his tracks when the voice called out to him, analyzing the tone. It sounded vaguely annoyed, but not angry like when a shopkeeper would catch him stealing food. Should be easy enough to deal with. So he looked up, all smiles, as the shinigami approached him.

The shinigami lifted an eyebrow, obviously confused by his cheerful expression. "Kid, what are you doing here? And in those clothes?"

Wow, this guy didn't think he was among the ranks. How strange; the uniform had fooled the gate guardian. Well, it looked as though he'd have to talk his way out of this one, didn't it?

"That's an awful strange question ta be askin' another shinigami," he said smoothly, years of experience as a liar assisting him nicely. "What else'd I be wearin'?"

The man's expression didn't change. "Maybe I don't believe you're really a shinigami. What division are you supposedly in?"

Division? Oh. He'd heard something about this on his travels, about how shinigami were divided into different groups based on specialized tasks. Come to think of it, that could be an effective way to narrow down his search for the ones he needed to kill. Well. All this information might well come in handy. He'd better pay attention. And find some way to answer that question.

"Now, what basis have ya got fer not believin' me? So suspicious." The question bought him a few extra seconds to think. Too bad nobody had mentioned what the specialties of each division were. He would have to wing it. "It's the Second that I'm in, jus' so ya know."

Okay, he really didn't understand why the shinigami started to laugh. What was funny about what he'd said? Did he pick some super-specialized division to come from, or something? Maybe it was better if he just got away from this little mishap.

For a moment, Gin contemplated unsheathing the sword at his side to deal with this shinigami in a similar fashion to the one he had stolen the uniform from. But the gate guardian was still in sight, and if anybody saw him kill someone, he would be trapped in an unfamiliar city full of enemies. In light of that, he decided to do the next most logical thing: run.

He was quick on his feet, and good at getting away from people when they got angry over some minor problem with him, but he unfortunately was woefully inexperienced when it came to the abilities of shinigami. Before he could even get past the first building, he crashed into something hard and landed flat on his back. Ow. He yelped as he felt himself being yanked into the air.

"See? This proves it. No one from the Second would be so pathetically easy to catch." The shinigami's voice was calm, but there was an unpleasant edge to his words. "You've got some explaining to do, and I suggest you do it. Now how did you get ahold of that uniform?"

Wow. That had been fast. The shinigami that he had killed back home never did anything like that. Maybe they were a little tougher than he thought; that was something else about his plans that he needed to re-evaluate. He seemed to be rather poorly prepared.

Even so, Gin smiled wider, almost maliciously. Might as well tell the truth, since there was no way this guy would believe it. "Maybe I killed one of ya an' took it."

The man snorted. "Sure you did. Not very good at lying, are you?" His brow furrowed, and he looked at Gin as though he were trying to analyze him. After a moment, his eyes widened a bit. "Well. Seems you do actually have something to you; not bad for a youngster. But there's no way an untrained little thing like you actually took out a shinigami all by yourself. So what's the real story? One of ours get caught in a riot in one of the rougher districts and you took advantage of the aftermath?"

Hm. The guy talked like that kind of thing wasn't uncommon. Oh, Gin had heard of it happening a few times – shinigami weren't welcome in the lower districts – but he'd never actually seen anything like that before. It was an out, though, and he would have been a fool not to take advantage of that.

"Aw, looks like ya caught me, sir," he drawled. "So hard survivin' out there when ya need food fer it, ya know. Everyone fer himself. Surely ya can't blame me fer tryin', right?"

"Eh. Desperate people do desperate things." With a sigh, the man gently set him down. "Look, technically, I should report this, but I'm going to cut you a break. I certainly can't let you come to the barracks, but there's another option available if you don't want to go back to Rukongai. Hell if I know why anyone would even want to go back there, mind."

Gin's eyebrows lifted at this, surprise at the offer overruling smugness that he had gotten away with the lie. As long as he stayed in the city, he would have his chance, and maybe figure out a way to get into those barracks. "Oh, I agree. It's jus' awful there. What's this other option yer talkin' about?"

"Wow, you must be from really far out if you don't know about the Academy. It's where kids with potential like yours learn how to become shinigami." He tugged on the shoulder of Gin's stolen uniform. "Once you graduate, you'll be able to get one of these things that actually fits you."

Gin sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. "Yeah, havin' a uniform that's too big would kind get in the way of doin' shinigami stuff, huh? So where's this Academy ya mentioned? Sounds like a good place ta go."

The man beckoned him forward. "Come on. I'll show you the way. Oh, and at least take off the outer robes before we go; if they realize you stole them, we'll both be in deep shit."

"Aw, that's so nice of ya, sir." Gin clumsily shrugged off the black garments and tossed them aside, still clad in the white kosode. He followed the man as he began to walk.

Okay, so breaching the walls of Seireitei hadn't gone exactly as he'd planned. But in the long run, perhaps this was better. More secure cover, and maybe he could refine his killing technique. If it made the whole plot take longer than he'd thought, that was fine. He wouldn't forget why he was here, no matter how much time passed.

Rangiku would be avenged.


End file.
